Ottumwa Tri Weekly Courier

TUESDAY, June 9, 1908.

The Soul of Croesus.
Copyright, 1908,
by
GERALD VILLIERS-STUART
Entered at Stationer's Hall
All rights reserved.

CHAPTER
It was near noon on the following
day. Fabian Dare was writing in his
journal. The expression of his sen-
sations seemed to him the only way
of quelling their tumult:
"How simple," he wrote, "must be
the emotions of a condemned criminal
before the execution-compared to
mine. He has only to turn his back
on life and face death. He is relieved
of all responsibility of choice by the
verdict of a nation-there was no day
in all his life for which his plans
were easier made. But I am whirled
round and round in a vortex of possi-
bilities. I have to force myself into the
chamber of horrors. I have to take
the responsibility for what happens to
me there. So many things may hap-
pen, worse than death-some fright-
ful maiming. On the other hand, per-
haps only a few minutes of pain and
discomfort, and then life real life,
the legacy of all the ages, which has
so few heirs, so many litigants. The
wonderful, sheltered life, which only
money can buy-only poverty teach
one to value."
He heard the chug-chug of a motor
stopping outside.
"Its modern symbol," he thought.
"Ten thousand pounds will not buy
much, but it is the life-buoy which will
enable me to make the shore-to keep
my head above the sea of humanity.
Ten thousand pounds--"
The door opened, and Abdul
von
Tarsenheim entered.
"I bring you the money, my friend,
the ten thousand pounds-the won-
derful magic rod, is it not? Count
them!" He threw a bundle of notes
on to the dining room table in front
of Fabian, and sat facing him as he
fingered them, trying to count them
over, but the figures always slipped
back and got lost in the chaos of his
mind.
"Yes, my friend, they are the real
magic, and if they are not given they
are so hard to get-such a price must
be paid--such a price! I tell you,
you get yours cheap! You can buy
all the wonderful young life, for you
are paid in advance--not long, long
afterwards, when all the shops are
shut-yes?"
"When all the shops are shut?"
echoed Fabian. "When all the shops
are shut!"
"Come, count the money!" said
Von Tarsenheim, rising, "for it is
time - Well, then, I do it for you.
There are five of one thousand, is it
not? There are forty of one hun-
dred, yes?-and ninety of ten. For
the clothes I buy for you I keep back
ten pounds. Is it right?"
"The money is all there," answered
Fabian, hoarsely, "but for God's sake
tell me, before I take it, what is the
price I must pay for it?"
"No man knows before what price
he will have to pay for anything, but
each man fear he pay more than his
neighbors. Come! The planets do
not wait! The great wheel turns, and
we will be late. Then, for another
month, you will have to wonder and
fear."
Fabian rose. His face was white
and drawn. He gathered up the
notes, with a shaky hand and shoved
them into his pocket without speak-
ing. Then he followed Von Tarsen-
heim out into the passage, and through
a door which had hitherto always
been locked. It was the dingy, com-
monplace room where Von Tarsen-
heim kept his curious glass machine.
A man of about his own height was
pacing the room feverishly. He wore
a motor mask.
"The headsman!"
Fabian spoke his
thoughts aloud.
The man in the goggles stopped his
excited promenade and looked at the
scapegoat curiously, scanning him as
a man looks at a horse he is buying
to carry him through some difficult
expedition. Dare and Vandraken look-
ed at one another. Von Tarsenheim
looked at them both. Fabian's eyes
told him nothing. Vandraken's told
him that he was looking at a gen-
tleman like himself, and he felt
vaguely sorry that Von Tarsenheim
had not provided someone of a lower
class, a class which was used to be-
ing done up. "A sensitive, poetical
sort of chap," thought Vandraken, tak-
ing in the oval face and the sloping
eyes.
"You have been paid?" he asked.
"Yes."
Dare's voice came muffled
and unnatural.
"And you understand what you are
being paid for?"
"I am selling myself to be experi-
mented on-that is all I understand."
"How's this?" Vandraken turned to
Von Tarsenheim.
"Didn't I tell you
that the scapegoat was to know
what he was undertaking? I won't
have him in a position to say I roped
him in! Tell him now!"
"It is better he should not know."
He took Vandraken aside and talked
to him in a low voice. "I have told
him," he whispered, "that he would
be paid for being the subject of an
experiment-that there was danger in
it. Himmel! A man does not get ten
thousand pounds for nothing! He
gives something for it--many things.
In one hour, when it is over, and he
finds himself alive and well, he will
leave this house-oh, very happy!
But what if he went running to the
glass every hour? He would fret!
Let him fret! and that would be bad for
him-for the experiment!"
"You said he would not believe it.
That's what you said."
"This man might. He is in touch
with the masterchord, and a poet. I
tell you, he was about to kill himself
-he had no money. This saves him.
Instead of death, you give him life and
money. In return he renders you a
small service. It is better he should
not know what."
"Look here," said Vandraken, turn-
ing to the youth kindly, "let's sit
down and talk this over."
Dare, whose knees were shaking,
sat down weakly in the chair he had
been holding on to. Vandraken took
a turn up and down the room, then
stopped in front of Dare.
"I don't want to take any advant-
age of your position. Von Tarsen-
heim thinks you ought not to know
the exact results of this experiment to
yourself, but I tell you this much-it
will affect your future. It is a mort-
gage on your future -one which you
will not be able to pay off."
"The maimed guinea-pig after the
experiment," said Fabian, tensely.
"If I understand right, you will be
as sound after the experiment as you
are before. Isn't that so?"
He turn-
ed to Von Tarsenheim.
"It's most probable,"
he answered.
"This young man has
sold himself,
body and soul, asking no questions,
expecting the worst: but if you tell
him, I shall have to get another sub-
ject, and it is not so easy--that is,
the suitable young man--and he will
lose ten thousand pounds!
"You hear?" he said to the young
man.
"Can you imagine any conse-
quences so bad that you would rather
not go on with this? If you can, we
will call it off. I'll give you--
How
much time can we give him, Von Tar-
senheim?"
The occultist looked at his watch.
"Four minutes," he replied; "but it is
a pity." And he left the room, look-
ing back craftily at the two
young
men.
"You hear?
Four
minutes!
You
have four minutes to decide!"
cried
Vandraken, impatiently. He was feel-
ing annoyed at the turn things were
taking.
"Let
me
think,"
answered
the
youth, his face buried in his hands.
"My God! It's a frightful decision
and I've spent ten pounds already!"
"Don't let that worry you,"
said
Vandraken, hastily.
"That part of it
is all right."
There was no sound in the room for
the next two minutes, while Fabian
Dare sat with his head bowed down
on the table.
What was that word
he had heard? "Scapegoat" -and the
future! What could it be that he
mustn't know?
Oh, it was all too
ghastly to go on with!
He was re-
leased--he would go!
The door opened, and Von
Tarsen-
heim entered, smiling, as usual.
Fabian rose to his feet. "I can't-"
Behind her father came Elsa, with a
tray and decanter.
"Give back that
ten
thousand
pounds!" he finished, and sat down
again. His eyes were full of Elsa's
beauty, and in his ears rang those
words of Von Tarsenheim's,
"Before
the shops are shut!"
"You see," said the occultist to Van-
draken, "he has made his decision.
He consents." There was a rising ex-
citement in his voice. He looked more
human.
Elsa put down the tray. She looked
anxiously at Fabian, and seemed to
be trying to nerve herself to speak.
Vandraken was looking at her with
hungry admiration.
"Thank you, Elsa.
We, ourselves,
can pour out the wine. We will not
give you the trouble." Her father was
looking at her menacingly. "You may
go."
Under his gaze Elsa shuddered,
gave one pitying glance at Fabian, and
left the room. Her father held the
door open, and bolted it behind her.
Vandraken poured out a drink and
gulped part of it down.
Von Tarsenheim came over to Fab-
ian Dare. "Come! Pour yourself out
a glass."
He filled one for himself,
and poured one out for the other.
"Let us drink to the success of the
experiment. It is a great moment-
it will be a great victory-the first
triumph of man over the law of the
universe--the conquest of the twin
enemies of pleasure-consequence and
remorse! To the moment when the
gods shall cease laughing at men!
Come! drink!" He raised his glass
to his lips. Vandraken did the same.
"To the devil with consequences!
To a hundred million dollars' worth
of pleasure and a dime's worth of
pain!" he cried, excitedly.
Fabian was the only one sitting
down. He looked from the man who
was masked with motor goggles, en-
dowing him with a suggestion of re-
lentlessness, to the man who masked
himself behind that overpowering
smile.
"God help the guinea-pig!" he mut-
tered, and took a drink.
Von Tarsenheim went to the corner
of the room and drew back the cur-
tains from the glass case with the
partition in the middle. He turned a
switch, and the colored lights began
to flash in the vacuum tubes which
ran across the top of the case. A wire
ran through each tube, and the ends
hung down on each side of the parti-
tion and were carried into a collar.
On the outer side of the collar were
switch-keys, on the inner small
sponges.
The inventor looked lovingly at the
apparatus, and ran his hand caress-
ingly down the glass sides. "Come!"
he called to Fabian. "I wish that
you take your place on this seat,"
in-
dicating the metal stool. The youth
collected himself, walked over to the
apparatus, with assumed nonchalance,
and took his seat as Von Tarsenheim
indicated.
"You must take off your collar."
The words sounded peculiar to him.
Why, it might be a hairdresser's shop,
he thought, with that whimsical turn
a man's thoughts take on momentous
occasions. Vandraken was again pac-
ing the room excitedly, wishing it was
all over.
Fabian removed his own collar, and
Von Tarsenheim adjusted the collar of
sponges. "You will feel nothing," he
said. "The wires are not at present
connected."
"I shall now hypnotise you. I ad-
wise that you do not resist, for as
you are passive so will it be easier
for you. It is but going to sleep."
Von Tarsenheim put the middle finger
of his right hand on the young man's
forehead. He quivered all over, his
hands clawed the air, and then sank
to his sides. He sat rigid on the stool.
Vandraken came over and looked at
him curiously.
"Poor devil! How utterly helpless
he is! And, by the way, as you are
also going to hypnotise me, I have
taken the precaution to station two
private detectives and a doctor out-
side. If I'm not out in two hours, they
will come in."
"And why not? It is a quite sen-
sible precaution. It is, in fact, a wise
precaution that you take. Come, now
-your collar!
Thank you. And now
to sit down."
Vandraken removed his collar and
took his seat on the glass stool.
"Do I have to do anything?"
he
asked.
"You have to will that all the
thoughts you do not wish to think
shall pass by telepathy to this young
man, and those are the thought vi-
brations started by what you call
conscience, and become remorse. I
say telepathy, because it conveys the
idea to you. My explanation of the
soul on the star you can not grasp.
Use the terms you can."
"All right. I understand that. I
can concentrate my mind on the other
man like a sunbeam in a burning
glass."
"Good! You will now use your im-
agination, and consider that matter
does not exist except as your mind
permits. You will consider that the
effect of all excesses is imaginary.
You will imagine yourself drinking all
day without any effect you do not
wish. Smoking-everything, in fact.
You will know what to include," he
added, meaningly.
"You will that all thought vibra-
tions arising from these excesses pass
by telepathy to this young man, and
as the body of the man who wills that
he wake at a certain hour obeys the
mind, so shall your body and his
body obey your mind; for by these
electric vibrations, which partake of
planet rays, I can, through my own
will-power--when you are under my
influence--endow you with the faith
which can move mountains, and im-
pose your will on the young man in
there." As he spoke he adjusted the
collar of sponges, and, going round to
Fabian Dare, who was as rigid as a
corpse, turned a key in his collar. His
breath came in a quick gasp, and he
quivered.
He then came back and turned a
key in Vandraken's collar.
"Now,
then!" he called, sharply, "concen-
trate!
concentrate!" and stared into
his eyes.
"That young man is now
your magnetic slave--under your con-
trol!"
"Yes, yes!" began Vandraken.
"I
am
His sentence remained unfinished.
He went off into a hypnotic sleep,
rigid on the glass stool.
In the center of the case, attached
to the partition, was a black mirror.
Into this Von Tarsenheim now began
to gaze with intense eagerness. "They
come!" he muttered, at last. "The re-
flections of their auras--the shadows
of these two fools' souls!" Then he
went from the one rigid man to the
other, turning on a wire in the collar
here, turning one off there, and be-
tween each operation he consulted
the mirror, rubbing his hands together
delightedly.
"As two clouds melt into one an-
other," he muttered, "their auras are
fusing. The Jupiterian influence is
strong in the American, and Venus in
them both. The other will be a poet
with a business head -that is funny!
Oh, it will be very funny! I will give
him some more of Jupiter!" He
manipulated the switch, and in one
of the vacuum tubes the light of steel-
blue flashed and sparkled, for a mo-
ment subduing the others. "And this
American a little more of the lunar
vibrations-and the other can spare
them. An idealistic materialist-ho!
ho!" Again he manipulated the wires
and a pale mauve light predominated.
He stood in front of Fabian for a
moment with folded arms. "You are
too susceptible, my friend-you and
my daughter, Elsa. You feel too eas-
ily the effect of vibrations with which
you are both in tune. Well, well!
When you are of the same star group,
who shall blame you? No, no, my
friend. I do not blame you, but I
change your tune a little: that is best
-and most interesting to watch the
effect when you see Elsa again-with
the affinity broken."
He turned off one of the switches in
Fabian's collar and turned on another.
Then he gazed into the staring eyes
for a full minute. "So! You care not
for my daughter any more. How
could you ever have thought her beau-
tiful, with that turned-up nose?" He
laughed, moved away, and began to
walk about the room, looking at his
watch, as though timing the boiling
of an egg. After a while he came
back to the machine again.
"Magnetic twins!-magnetic twins!"
he murmured, as he gazed into the
mirror. "It is wonderful! Ormuz, the
Chaldean, I salute you--you very
clever Ormuz. The prevention of the
reflex action so that one could be in-
sulated-that is mine.
There were
slaves born to bear such burdens in
Ormuz's day. They could be made
passive prisoners. No! Ormuz had
not that problem. Today the slaves
are made, not born, but they must not
know it--it would never do that they
knew it. But with all those millions
of money-without slaves-no good--
no good at all."
Then he stood in front of Van-
draken. With his pink face and
bronzy hair, deprived of all life, he
looked like a waxwork figure. Von
Tarsenheim suddenly emitted a harsh,
cackling laugh as he apostrophised
Vandraken.
"Oh, you are funny! But you must
not laugh too much, Abdul--no, it
would be rude to laugh too much. You
think you hire a man for the experi-
ment, and all the time you are the
experiment. You think you have gone
to cheat the gods--I wonder what they
will do to you. Yes, it will be funny
to watch what they will do to you.
It is like persuading a little boy he
can beat a big boy, and then to watch
the fight, and see what the big boy
does to the little boy. And you pay me
one hundred thousand pounds! It is
like being paid to go to the theater.
"Ormuz, my friend, you lived in
the wrong day. There was nothing
good at the theater in your day, but
now there are the men of wonderful
riches, who make of themselves kings
and the subjects know it not. Then
they try to make of themselves gods,
and the gods tell on them to the peo-
ple, and the people wake up and pull
down the rich men, and the rich men
fall on the people, and all go smash
together. It will be funny to watch.
It is always amusing to live in the day
when men have rolled the stone al-
most to the top of the hill where the
gods live, and then, just as they begin
to shout, 'There are no gods but our-
themselves!' the unseen hand and a push
-and the stone goes hop, hop, hop to
the bottom of the hill." Von Tarsen-
heim cackled again. "And then the
laugh from Olympus-the light on the
top of the hill, the darkness at the
bottom-and the remnant spawning in
the darkness for centuries, till they
are strong enough to begin to push
the stone to the top again." Abdul
von Tarsenheim rubbed his hands to-
gether delightedly. "But I think this
dish is cooked." He looked into the
black mirror. "Yes, they are quite
cooked, those scrambled eggs."
He
turned off the switch, and the colored
lights died out in the vacuum tubes.
"Yes, their auras are now well
tangled. It will take years to undo
them. It is very funny--two men with
their wires crossed, and Abdul lis-
tening at the telephone. Poor old Ab-
dul, the heathen-the Dago-the
fakir!"
He went to Vandraken and took off
the collar. Then he put his hand on
his head, and Vandraken rose from
the glass stool, stepped out on to the
floor, and began stretching himself
and rubbing his eyes.
"What a
ghastly dream!" he muttered.
Then
he went to Von Tarsenheim
and
touched him. "Yes, you are real. It
was only a dream, a nightmare.
I
am awake! Say I am awake!"
"Of course you are awake. Come
and see the other man. He is asleep.
I leave him asleep a little longer."
He made a pass over him, undid the
collar of sponges, and drew the cur-
tain.
Vandraken put on his collar and
looked at his watch.
"Why I've been here nearly two
hours!"
Von Tarsenheim went to the door,
opened it, and called out: "Elsa!
Elsa! Bring some more wine!"
"All right!" came the answer.
"So I will see the pretty maid
again? She's a peach, that maid of
yours-a regular ripper-and innocent
as a child. You ought to throw her
in for the hundred thousand, Von Tar-
senheim."
Abdul only smiled
sardonically.
"Oh, yes--the hundred
thousand!
Give it to me now."
"All right. I suppose you have done
what you promised, though I don't
see how I am to know."
"Well, you must try. You must
do something that should make you
feel ashamed, and see--you will feel
no shame, no remorse. I should be
glad that you make the trial. The
other man will have the shame, the re-
morse at first very much, very keen;
but with use his conscience--no, not
his conscience, but your conscience
within him--will lose its edge, then
he will not feel so much. Only on his
face will be the record. Yes, I should
like to see the first effect."
"My! but you are plausible, Von
Tarsenheim--damned plausible! But
I don't see much temptation to sin in
this room."
Elsa entered, still in her maid's
apron, which showed the pretty curves
of her figure. She put down the bot-
tle and looked anxiously about the
room.
"Where-" she began.
Before her lips could end the sen-
tence they were smothered by Van-
draken's hot kisses. She felt herself
whirled from the floor into his arms,
swooning in a storm of passion which
beat down her resistance. Strange,
unknown thrills ran through her. She
felt the stain on her maidenhood, and
revolting from his touch like some
wild thing, put forth one great effort
and freed herself from his embrace,
threw herself down on a chair by
the table and sobbed wildly. Her tears
which would have moved most men
to shameful contrition, left Van-
draken untouched. He looked more
as though he were about to embrace
her again than apologise.
There was a cry of anguish from
behind the curtain, a cry which car-
ried composite notes of horror, shame
and anguish. Then Fabian burst
through the curtains, pale, collarless,
and trembling with excitement.
Vandraken hastily put on his motor
mask, but Dare had not seen him. He
had eyes for Elsa only, and by her
he threw himself on his knees.
"Elsa, forgive me! Elsa, I did not
mean to! It is impossible! It is sac-
rilege! I don't understand it! What
have I done? Say you forgive me!
I shall kill myself! I must have been
mad!"
Abdul von Tarsenheim looked at
Vandraken triumphantly, the spirit of
successful invention incarnate swamp-
ing any paternal instinct he ever had.
Vandraken took a bundle of notes of
large denomination from his pocket.
"You will find a few thousand over
I think. You're great, Von Tarsen-
heim-simply great!"
There was a loud knocking at the
outside door.
"The detectives! I'd better go down
to them. Good-bye. You ought to let
me have the maid, though."
"She was my daughter."
"Your daughter!" Vandraken whis-
tled, and went out, Von Tarsenheim
following him.
Elsa raised her tear-stained
face
and looked down at Fabian. "What
is it? Why do you ask forgiveness?
It was not you. If it had been you,
perhaps- No, I don't mean that!
But, oh! what is the matter
with
you?"
(To be Continued.)